


No Broken Window, Just a Hand

by BlaiseKillmonger



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Erik's just a broken gay, Eventual Romance, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, M/M, Romance, T'Challa (Marvel) Feels, T'Challa is totally bisexual, slight AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 09:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13714611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlaiseKillmonger/pseuds/BlaiseKillmonger
Summary: Slight AU at the end of the movie. T'Challa and Erik have been neglecting their feelings because of history, but a sore hand might be what brings them closer.





	No Broken Window, Just a Hand

**Author's Note:**

> AU where T'Challa and Erik Killmonger are not cousins, or related in any matter, and Erik survives at the end of the movie. Also, T'Challa is one hundred percent a bisexual god.

"Greetings, Mister Killmonger, or would you prefer Stevens? What about N'Jadaka?" 

The King of Wakanda strolled in with a hint of pride glimmering on his face, a small corner-smile that escaped. His black, political robe just missed the ground but his hands remained behind his back, braided into each other firmly. That hint of pride played with Erik who wanted to know why he was smiling but hated his enemies knowing something he did not. Only twice did his enemies have an informative advantage – the first ended up with twelve cuts in his throat. The second was approaching him and almost met a similar fate. He refused to be imprisoned as he feared imprisonment, but T'Challa refused to let him down like his father had done to a younger Erik. Maybe if something had been done, 'Killmonger' might have never even surfaced. Once Erik was healed T'Challa allowed him to stay in his private living quarters with the promise of no imprisonment. Except for the room only being able to be opened on the outside. Erik was able to adapt to the change but soon grew bored. Except for today. T'Challa's smile intrigued the former black ops soldier.

"What's lifting that smile? Do you feel good about me being trapped in here? Huh?" Erik spat at T'Challa with his words. He jumped on the bed, which was actually very good for a form of solitary confinement. The Avenger simply brushed the back of his robe with his hands, holding it in place as he sat next to his not so much 'prisoner'. 

"Trapped? I would not think sleeping in the bed of the King of Wakanda makes you trapped. I took what you asked for into consideration and compromised. I would say you're 'residing' here instead."

The dreaded Wakanda native scoffed at what he heard and sat forward.

"So that's what this is about? Not saving my life, or paying a debt for my father's life? No this is all so you can feel better about yourself."

Erik stood up and patted T'Challa on the shoulder as he moved to the window. It was thorough, clearer than the day and revealed the sight of Wakandan forests surrounded by rich waterfalls but in the corner was a small stain. Crimson, dark and aged, it reminded T'Challa of dried up blood. He slowly lifted himself up, frowning at Erik from behind and approached him. Erik's focus was so strong on the scenery outside, he didn't even flinch once he felt T'Challa behind him. T'Challa slowly cupped his bruised hand from behind and had to extend Erik's arm out to look at the damage.

"Why would you do this to yourself? You should have brought it up, we could have fixed this by now," T'Challa questioned. Erik's hand wasn't in complete bad condition but it was cut and bruised enough for T'Challa to be worried. Erik slowly claimed his hand back but T'Challa took it once again and forced the man in front of him to face him.

"Look, it's nothing T, don't worry about me. I got restless on the first week and tried experimenting. Guess it didn't work out," Erik chuckled lightly. He winced at T'Challa's warm fingers on his knuckled but he got used to the feeling and tightened his fist, allowing T'Challa to examine properly.

"I am not a drink you have with biscuits, my name is T'Challa or King," he started. It amused Erik and won a small laugh from him, but he quickly retreated his smile into a smaller grin. "We had an agreement that you would stay in here as long as you did not do anything to compromise it. Maybe we should look at your arrangements."

The small inkling of amusement from Erik's face faded and he sucked his teeth.

"So, you're going to move me over a broken window?"

"The window is in no broken shape. It is you I am concerned about, I do not want you hurting yourself like this." 

T'Challa left the man standing on his own to drift away. He chuckled at Erik subtly, who didn't realize he was blushing. Truth be told, nobody really cared about Erik or what he did to himself – just what he did to other people. Nobody wanted him as the King of Wakanda, or as the Black Panther. They didn't give him a chance to prove himself and it built up his hate for T'Challa. But once they got to know each other, he wanted to kill T'Challa less and understand him more.

"I appreciate your  _concern._  Just please, don't send me to no prison. I won't do it, you can't-" 

His petrified words were cut off by gentle shushing from the other man.  

"Do not worry yourself, I am a man of my word. Just please, if you feel upset or scared, talk to me. I may the Black Panther but I am still a human at the end of the day."

T'Challa felt the heat in the room and slowly removed his robe, revealing a plain black V-neck accompanied by his traditional necklace. 

"Well thanks, T'Challa. You use that speech often or am I special?" He teased. "Oh, the King without his robe. That’s genuinely a sight for new eyes."

T'Challa smiled and couldn't stop looking at Erik, who was no longer facing the window. 

"What's so funny, King Kitty?" Erik snarled with a wide smile. Slowly approaching T'Challa, the latter backed away slowly. 

"Nothing. Just you."

His foot collided with the bed and he stopped in his tracks with Erik still sliding towards him. 

"You think I'm funny, huh? I make you  _laugh,_ huh?" He questioned, firmly pressing into T'Challa's abdomen, forcing out a yelp from him. 

"Please, I'd rather you didn't," T'Challa protested. Erik continued and T'Challa fell back smirking, but Erik grabbed him in time. He was holding onto his arms and dragged Erik with him onto the bed. The two laughed out loud, lying next to each other and staring at the ceiling.

"Kitty's got a weak spot!" Erik teased. T'Challa felt weird but comfortable at the same time. He wouldn't let anybody see him acting like this but he wasn't ashamed. Erik wasn't given many wardrobe choices so he was used to wearing his combat attire, but now he felt the urge to take his tan ballistic vest and did so. It had been so long since either of them just let loose. No worrying, no stress, just being happy and enjoying the moment. Maybe they just needed to truly understand each other. Erik didn't feel like his usual, angry self and T'Challa felt free of all responsibilities. After everything, T'Challa just needed someone close to him, a friend who could take everything bad away. Being a King meant everything he did would be watched and judged but this was a well-kept secret he would risk everything for.

"You know, maybe we could get along," Erik admitted. "You're not so bad."

Some, but not all offense was taken.

"I am still bad?" 

"Just a little."

They were still laid on the bed and they both turned to each other, staring into the other man's eyes. Only a pillow was between them and even that was buried underneath them. 

"We are all a little bit bad. Sometimes we just do not realize it."

T'Challa had a guilty smile on his face; he had done many bad things in the hope it would lead to something right. After finding out what T'Chaka had done to Killmonger's father, he cried countless times. The thought of his father creating what Erik had turned into slowly burnt into his heart. Erik had mentioned that he'd watched T'Challa walking in Wakanda with T'Chaka. T'Challa imagined what could have happened, and what didn't happen, whenever he was alone. He couldn't risk it not happening again. He just couldn't.

Erik brushed his dreads to the side and turned on his side to talk to T'Challa. He only realized then both of them were stripped of their outer-wear and remained close on the bed. Killmonger was trained to take away his feelings, his emotions, so he couldn't understand how he felt about the man in front of him. His understanding was growing throughout the whole experience in that room and he felt like he was okay with the thoughts in his mind. 

"I hate it so much when people don't realize something...that's right in front of them..." 

Erik felt a sudden hot flush as he licked his lips and noticed T'Challa watching those very same lips. T'Challa's heart jumped back and forth like it was on a trampoline, but he felt conflicted about his emotions.  _What's happening?_ T'Challa thought to himself. 

"So do I..."

The static ran through the cream-colored walls, right through the silver bed and in between this closing in faces of T'Challa and Erik. Brown eyes met brown eyes and Erik noticed T'Challa had a sparkle in both eyes. 

_Screw it,_ they both told themselves.

Erik sighed with a passionate breath and moved towards T'Challa, but not alone. T'Challa brought his lips towards Erik's and both warriors entered a deep, passionate kiss. This moment, it took everything T'Chaka had ever done and T'Challa didn't think of anything but the man he was kissing. Their beards rubbed against each other and Erik felt scared. Like it was a trap.

"N'Jadaka, I understand. You have been raised to feel fear at these feelings."

"I don't feel fear-" Erik cut off.

"I know. But when was the last time you truly loved someone? You have been made to believe violence is the only desire that is right, yet don't you feel something right now? Please, trust me."

Erik allowed T'Challa's rose-colored tongue to enter his mouth and slowly gave T'Challa his tongue. Their lips began to get moister and Erik realized what T'Challa was talking about. He hadn't felt this way in so long, if ever. It was lovely, amazing. It was real.

"I think you're the first person I've ever...loved...Kitty."

T'Challa felt the heat flying through his face and his body. He felt warm enough to wrap his arm around Erik's waist and Erik returned the motion for T'Challa. The Africans brought themselves closer and quickly broke to take their shirts off. T'Challa removed his tight black V-neck and bit his lip as he watched Erik take off his blue undershirt. Before locking their lips again, Erik hesitated and pulled T'Challa's hands from his shoulders to his chest.

"What about these? These don't put you off me?"

T'Challa looked at the lethal scars on Erik's body and began to kiss his chest.

"I do not care about these. We have all made mistakes. My friend Steve left a man here, Sergeant Barnes, who I learned was not responsible for my father's death. I almost killed him and once I discovered the truth, I decided to help him. He is not too far from here recovering from a mental infiltration and has made a steady recovery. We can take away all of those violent feelings you have."

Erik embraced the kisses and kissed his shorter lover on his forehead. 

"Just don't make me a zombie.  _Please._ "

T'Challa was giggling, much to Erik's surprise. "I promise."

"Then why are you laughing?"

"Your beard is tickling my nose," he chuckled with one eye closed and a smile. Erik brought him in closer and continued kissing him.

"You Panthers are so  _damn ticklish!_ " Erik yelled playfully, trapping T'Challa in and ambushing him. The former prince revealed a cute laugh and tried to fight away, only to be pulled in closer. His torture was concluded with more kisses to the head, and he held tight against Erik. With one look into Killmonger's eyes, he wanted his trust more than ever.

"I give you my word, you will get treatment in the best way for you. We can carry on letting you use our room if you want."

The self-proclaimed 'Killmonger' seemed more than happy with what he heard. T'Challa really made him feel good.

"Our room? Your Highness, are you inviting me into a relationship? What about your followers, won't they have a problem with this?"

T'Challa closed his lips firmly on Erik's and slowly parted from him. The black robe on the floor was scooped into his hands and he left it in between in legs. He put his shirt back on and stared at Erik with one of his biggest smiles as he folded the robe around his arm. Knocking the door twice with his free hand, the soldier on the other side opened the door. He raised his hand and dismissed the soldier to leave the pair on their own again.

"I am the King of Wakanda. If I choose to love a man who has killed excessively, that is my choice. Take care, Mr. Stevens, I look forward to the next visit."

"Wait!"

Erik picked up his blue shirt and passed it to T'Challa.

"What is this? Will you not be cold?"

"Not anymore. I don't think I'll ever feel cold again. Here, take it. Something to remember me by. I know you'll only visit when you can."

Accepting his gift, he placed it on the floor next to him with the robe and took his shirt off as well. 

"A shirt for a shirt." T'Challa grinned. He passed Erik the shirt and left with the blue shirt, putting it on.

At the end of the visit, T'Challa was wearing a new blue shirt that looked familiar to the soldiers and his family, but none of them realized. Even with the robe off, in plain sight, nobody had a clue. A double glimpse from Everett led to a shrug, and T'Challa paid no mind to it. Erik was staring outside of the window again, holding T'Challa's shirt against his chest. It smelt of him and every time he stared outside, he closed his eyes after and imagined what it would be like once he got the help he needed. They could be together, in the mountains of Wakanda, sharing their love with eternal kisses and wearing each other's shirts.


End file.
